


Yuuri Katsuki Is Trash

by Notsomuchaworm



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, Innocence, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Heartbreaker Katsuki Yuuri, Sexism, So much angst, Writer Katsuki Yuuri, Yuuri is a librarian, Yuuri lives for angst, a chubby yuuri katsuki is a happy yuuri katsuki, as usual, but NOT FOR LONG LOL, fanfiction community hates angst, i wanna cover a plot point that deal with that, if i do its going to be really dorky or really kinky there will be no inbetween, ikr its crazy but this is how its gonna go, in the day time, in the night time HE'S WRITING SMUTTY FAN FICTION, maybe some smut idk how write it, minako just wants yuuri to be happy, phichit is the captain of the ship as usual, second time tagging and I guess im slightly better, the chapters will get longer i promise, victor is a charming dork, victor just wants somebody to understand him, victor quickly falls in love yuuri, we all want victor to be happy also, yuuri just got a whole lot more relatable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsomuchaworm/pseuds/Notsomuchaworm
Summary: Yuuri knows that  in someone’s eyes, he’s taking this celebrity crush a little too far.And he agrees.He knows that the possibility of ending up with Victor Nikiforov, let alone anybody, was close to nothing. Why would the Victor Nikiforov want anything to do with a slobbish twenty three year old man who writes fanfiction about him? Yuuri also knew that every word he wrote was one step farther from moving on from this so called celebrity crush.But, if we were all honest here, that was a cause that was lost years ago.OrYuuri is famous for cliche fluffy reader inserts but desperately needs truthful angsty fics about his idol Victor Nikiforov. After getting spammed with links to this fanfction everybody is talking about, Victor finally decided to read one and direct message the author.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so first chapter is very short but I only spent a half an hour writing it with light editing so I say it's okay for now. I'm gonna go work on chapter two and it should be out tomorrow or the next day. Feedback is what fuels my determintation so commenting or giving kudos are great.

Yuuri knows that in someone’s eyes, he’s taking this celebrity crush a little too far. 

And he agrees. 

He knows that the possibility of ending up with Victor Nikiforov, let alone anybody, was close to nothing. Why would _the_ Victor Nikiforov want anything to do with a slobbish overweight twenty three year old man who writes fanfiction about him? Yuuri also knew that every word he wrote was one step farther from moving on from this so called celebrity crush. 

But, if we were all honest here, that was a cause that was lost years ago.

_The silvered haired man groaned in exhaustion, relieved to be home after a long day of working. There were still boxes scattered across the penthouse that needed to be unpacked, but Victor could summon no spare energy to even look at them. He plopped on the sofa (one of the very few pieces of furniture that were usable at the moment), and felt like he never wanted to get up again. There was a space of emptiness that lingered in the pit of his stomach, and it made it oh the more obvious that Makkachin wasn’t here. His manager didn’t allow him to bring the poodle, and now, Victor was cold and alone in an unfamiliar place. It almost reminded him of_

No. No. No. He couldn’t write this. This was suppose to be a light hearted reader insert, targeting to others, not _Yuuri_. This wasn’t suppose to be about the struggles of loss and finding purpose once again.

Yuuri kept hundreds of files on his google drive full of the kind of content he yearned to write. Tens of thousands of words were spent each day writing about the true, human Victor Nikiforov. The Victor Nikiforov inside closed doors, the pain behind the his smiles, and the reminiscence of the boy who Yuuri had fallen for in the first place, the one filled with passion and beauty and inspiration. 

Most fans didn’t want that type of content. They longed for love at first sight, marriage after a month, and things so cliche like Victor being possessive and attentive. His readers wanted Victor Nikiforov, not Victor. 

If Yuuri was going to truly write, it was going to be about his Victor ( Yuuri flinched. He was making it sound like Victor was an object, a mere prize that someone can win. It gave him a weird feeling in his gut), the one who loved his dog, struggled with self-doubt sometimes, and who was flawed. _The Victor who would skate with his heart on his sleeve._ Perfectly imperfect. 

But he couldn’t stop posting. Too many people had commented how happy his updates made them (no matter how bad his writing was), and he would rather suffer through writing painstakingly fake chapters if someone out in the world was happy because of them. 

It made Yuuri embarrassed about how he was craving for such an intimacy that he shouldn’t even been fantasizing about in the first place. He should be writing novels or poems or at least something that didn’t involve that beautiful silver haired man. Then maybe one day, he can look back at how silly he was for writing about him, and delete all of his accounts. Maybe he could get actual publishing then, and do something with his degree in Creative Writing. 

But hey, that will be the day. Besides, Yuuri should be able to be content with giving something his readers enjoy, content with having the freedom to write about Victor at all. Yuuri was content. 

It seemed like every word he wrote was trying to convince himself the same thing. 

_The silver haired man sighed in content, happy to be home after a long day of meeting fans and trying on new looks that were in the latest magazines. It was a Friday night and to celebrate Victor moving in and the start of the weekend, Victor thought that maybe a last minute party would be fun. He gracefully sat down on the long sofa, pulling out his phone to text his friend Christophe to send out invitations for him. Not even a few minutes later he received a response, so Victor started to call people to set up some refreshments for the guests that would be arriving that evening. The last thing Victor needed to do was to ready himself to look as good as possible (which wasn’t hard to do, he was Victor Nikiforov). He decided that the wool armani three piece suit he had would have to do tonight considering his better ones were still being shipped to his new apartment. He put his poodle in his kennel and left him in that laundry room for the night, almost forgetting to feed the poor creature he was so excited for the party._

Little did he know that he was about to meet someone that was going to change his life forever. 

Yuuri wanted to vomit. It took him almost 15 minutes to get a single paragraph of this garbage in and the next fifty were promising to be just as hard. Everything sounded so...wrong. Yuuri made Victor seem so carefree and shallow and he even added that Victor almost forgot to feed Makkachin, even locking him in the laundry room. Yuuri hoped that he would get through this chapter, just like he had the last one, and the one before that. He wondered if Victor felt the same way about his work too. 

Yuuri snorted. It was time to get to work. 

 

~

 

More links. It’s been awhile since Victor had received this link through his various social medias, but apparently not long enough. Victor likes participating and acknowledging his fans, but sometimes, it’s advised not to. Twenty years of fame had taught him that some of his fans don’t care about sending links with viruses or sending links leading him to various porn and black market sites, so clicking on links are something Victor doesn’t do. 

But this was almost ridiculous. 

He get’s about a few links to this fanfiction once every few days at best, a few times an hour at worst. Victor found it cute that his fans would spend the time and creativity to write about him, and he knows he has a better tolerance for fan fiction than some of his other coworkers. He had never gone out of his way to read them anyways ( He never had the time to do anything these days), but after a few months of this spamming to his Twitter, Instagram, and even to his _Facebook_ that he had left abadnoned for almost seven years, he was tempted to find out what exactly was so interesting about it.

When his mouse loomed over the link, Victor felt like he was expecting an electric shock, or something that would change his mind and tell him that he should be doing something else, and not wasting precious time. Nothing came. Victor was going to read a fanfiction about himself. He smiled. 

He clicked the link.


	2. Tumblr is the Cause of all Problems Guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor fangirls, Yuuri gets drunk, and you all don't get to see what happens next yet (^o^)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I looked back and I did a thing that I realized would go against the plot so I went back and redid that (there are a LOT of things wrong with the previous chapter but I'm to tired to care too much at the moment), and so now we're here. I also found out that my setting are kinda weird too ( it was set to one shot instead of multi chapter idk why probably because I forgot to add a title bc I'm lazy), so I'm gonna fix that also. I legit posted the last chapter thinking no one was going to even look at it then I come back with 600 reads and I'm like well crap (also at least eight assured people want more of this so I guess I really have no choice but to continue heh). Thanks for reading and remember that even if you are a guest you can always comment and I'll always reply to any comment that's posted. ENJOY DA READING!! 
> 
> P.S. Yuuri's writing is suppose to be really professional like published work and I know mine definitely isn't but just use your imagination or something ;) Also sorry for the long ass author's note-

This was..Surprising. 

And Victor Nikiforov knows surprising.

It took him two hours to finish the first story he saw. Instead of a link to just one work, it was a link to an account, Katsudon_n_stuff, with over _twenty three_ works. And, apparently, Kutsudon_n_stuff had a Twitter and Tumblr account too, with a good amount of following on both. Even though the accounts were close to barren (and no pictures of the author or anybody whatsoever), both had hundreds of thousands of followers and notes and retweets and had so much support. 

All twenty three works were about _him_. Not one written work was left without a Victor Nikiforov tag and/or a reader/Victor NIkiforov tag. The hits were sometimes in the millions, and Victor couldn’t believe that so many people could read a story in just a short few months. Victor was sure if he did the math (but why would he do that? Nobody likes math) than he would see that there was enough hits to have a moderately populated country. Victor had no idea that even half of the amount of total hits Katsudon_n_stuff had knee who he was, let alone the whomping amount that was present on the account. 

What truly surprised Victor was how.. How much he _longed_ to be the man in the stories that were written. The Victor on paper was handsome, carefree, graceful, and most of all _flawless_. He always said the right thing at the right time, was never tired, and seemed a genuinely fun person. It was a Victor who could do anything and be anything he wanted, because he was Victor Nikiforov. He understood now why so many people wanted to read these stories now, because this Victor gave even gave _him_ some kind of feeling. 

It wasn’t the correct representation, but Victor could accept it. Katsudon_n_stuff made him look exactly how the media portrayed him, and he was fine with that, no matter how dishonest that representation was. 

He was fine. 

The work he completed reading was very well written, in all honesty. Extremely well written. It was a writing style you would find in a published book, not given away for free online. Every sentence was written like it was meant to be there, like every drum beat in a melody. Victor loved it.

He shyesd away from some of the more… mature works. A little less than half of the works included the main premise to be sex, but the extremely lewd ones were on Tumblr. Readers would request a prompt for how they ended up in Victor’s bed (sometimes not even on a bed, or even in a private place for that matter), and Katsudon_n_stuff would write it in less than a few days. It was a system that was so simple, but so effective. 

He chuckled to himself. Were all fanfiction communities built like this? Katsudon was professional, editing every piece of work until it was pristine and crisp. The writer even translated his works into other languages (there were nine different languages to choose from, but Russian was not on the list yet for some reason, so Victor settled with just English) which was extremely impressive.

Everything was just so surprising and impressive with this author. He was producing high quality content in a matter of days, leaving more and more readers coming back for more every time he updated. Readers were left on the edge of their seats, wondering how just how his stories were going to play out and what was going to happen next. Victor admired that quality in the author, and it reminded him of himself in the old days, always full of surprises. Of when he use to skate…

Victor switched tabs from the epilogue of the work to his tumblr. He opened up his tumblr, hitting the smiley face eye con, then let his words write for himself. 

 

_**Sent.** _

 

~

 

“Come on Yuuri, live a little! It’s your birthday for goodness sake! I swear you look at the computer screen more than you do at Victor Nikiforov. Come on, get up and get dressed. We’re going out tonight!” Phichit demanded. Yuuri didn’t have the pride or spirit in him to deny the oh so true accusation. 

“It’s my birthday right? Why can’t we just stay in the apartment and order pizza or something?” Yuuri mumbled, turning off his laptop and getting off his bed. 

“Because we always do that! Yuuri! You deserve something special for your birthday!” His best friend argued. 

“I did do something special today. I got to talk to my parents today… “ Yuuri remembered. He had to wait till late in the afternoon to call them because of the time change, and he couldn’t talk for long with them though because neither him nor his parents could afford such an expensive call. He still got to talk them though, which was something he hadn’t done in a long time. 

“And that’s great, Yuuri. It is.. But I want to do something truly special for you today. Can you at least have fun for me tonight?” Phichit asked. Yuuri knew how strange it must look to have your best friend beg you to celebrate your birthday with him, and that only made the guilt that pounded against his chest a little stronger. Then the guilt was like a full force cannonball when Phichit gave him the cursed puppy dog eyes. Yuuri caved immediately.

“Okay… Where do you have in mind?” Yuuri asked. Phichit’s cheerful smile returned when he realized he won. 

“Okay, don’t panic-”

That was never a good sign. 

“-but I thought we could go to this place that just opened-”

A place Yuuri probably had no idea about. 

“-and it looks really fun. It's a bar-”

Phichit _knows_ what happens if you give Yuuri Katsuki alcohol.

“-that’s known for doing lip singing and other things. It’s sounds super fun, right?” Phichit asked, obviously excited. 

Yuuri always wondered what it must be like for someone like Phichit Chulanont to always have the ability to be confident and energetic, ready to do whatever he wants. The two had been best friends ever since Yuuri came to America, and even though they couldn’t seem more different at times, they had a connection for both being in a new, different place all alone. Yuuri had no idea where he would be right now if he hadn’t met Phichit (actually, he does know. Yuuri would have no one to personally help him with his online writing life, and would be homeless with no job or degree. Basically, he would be dead by now), and Yuuri always tried to be there for him as Phichit was for him. 

If he thought of all the reasons that going out tonight would be a bad idea, there was with out of doubt Yuuri would stay home. So for once, maybe Yuuri didn’t have to think? Could spend one night not thinking what was next, what would he actually accomplish, and would all his work be meaningless...One night out wouldn’t be the end of the world right? His readers wouldn’t mind too much if he updated a day late. 

Besides.. Maybe Yuuri needed one night where he didn’t think about Victor Nikiforov. 

“When do we leave?”

 

~

Yuuri had asked Phichit to make sure he didn’t drink too much, both knowing full well how Yuuri got when he was drunk. That turned out to be a forgotten idea once the night progressed. Shot after shot Yuuri took, proving to what seemed like the world that the Japanese can hold their alcohol.

But when Yuuri got drunk, he got blackout drunk. 

It all went so fast. He had downed a shot, looked at the karaoke stage, then blinked. 

The next thing he knew, Phichit was dragging him into an Uber laughing his ass off for some god forsaken reason- he blinked his eyes again, and he was on his bed with the lights off and his computer in his lap. _It was like he was teleporting_. Yuuri didn’t know. 

Surprisingly, Yuuri drunk was somehow more productive than Yuuri sober (which was definitely a bad thing), so he decided to go check on his tumblr. It took him five minutes to actually click on the t icon on his computer without missing, and decided to go to the little envelope and see what type of stuff he got. Surprisingly there was only one message, which made tears well up in Yuuri’s eyes. Did they finally not like him anymore? Were they finally sick and tired of his boring meaningless content? Did being late on one a single day of updates make everyone want to leave him?

_I just finished **Winter’s Kisses and Couples** and it was so freaking cute! This was my first time reading a fanfiction and it was a good choice to make this one my first. It was so lovey dovey and domestic I wanted to cry! I admire how you always add a little bit of a spark into each chapter, and it surprised me every time I read one. I hope to read more of your further works in the future. *(^o^)*_

_I’m curious: Do you really think Victor Nikiforov is truly like this? Always charming, fun, and carefree? Or do you think that it’s just an act?_

Yuuri could barely read the note, but desperately wanted to answer it. It was notes like this that helped Yuuri convince himself that he wasn’t a complete and total failure for leaving his home, his friends, and his family just to live in a completely different country to be a struggling writer and librarian. Then there was the question. He had never gotten a question like this. A question that nobody asked but Yuuri always had the answer to. 

There’s a saying that says that drunk words are sober thoughts, and that can’t be any more truthful in this situation. Before Yuuri knew it, he was throwing himself into writing a badly written letter at probably two in the morning that some poor chump was going to read the next day wondering what the heck they got themselves into, and that they didn’t ask for this, and that this would be a perfect thing to screenshot and post on whatever social media platform to show to the world that Katsudon_n_stuff was a _liar._

Yuuri was relying on the memory of his keyboard laptop and nothing else. It was like when he was that bar tonight, blinking once and being somewhere else the next. Only this time he had his eyes open, and could see everything he was doing (no matter how blurry his vision was), and could still do nothing to stop it. It was one of the things that scared Yuuri most about being drunk, along with being able to remember what he did the next day. 

_**Sent**._

His probably essay length rant about the real Victor Nikiforov was sent. Have mercy on that poor reader’s soul. 

Yuuri blinked. 

And when he opened his eyes, it was morning, and his head was face planted on his computer’s keyboard. 

Yuuri remembered nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on vacation with my family next week, so I probably won't update as quick. I'l leave the 14th and be back the 19th. It's a four hour car trip so I might get a chapter done, but I won't be able to bring my computer and I'm not that very good typing on my phone. Just a heads up.


	3. Hungover and Terrified are a Really Bad Combination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit is the definition of optimism and support, Yuuri is a nervous wreck, and Victor is a special snowflake that I had to learn kaomojis for ヾ（＾ヮ＾)ﾉ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back from my lovely vacations and ready to roll readers! Thank you for the overwheming support and I'm happy you're all enjoying it! I love hearing your thoughts and try to reply to every comment, so if you have something to say, don't be afraid to. Have fun translating what drunken Yuuri said haha. Happy reading!

Almost a whole day passed and Victor felt more stupid by the minute. Katsudon_n_stuff was probably busy, and god knows Victor was busy and if Yakov knew that the reason he was so off balanced today was because that he was waiting for a reply on a message that he left to a fanfic writer on Tumblr. Victor didn’t know if it would be hilarious or mildly terrifying if his manager also knew that the transformative work was a reader insert about himself. 

But Victor was starting to profusely regret even clicking on the link, with how much he was caring about how if someone messaged him back, which was very strange considering that Victor Nikiforov was a man of only few regrets. One being convinced to leave skating and the other being convinced to move to North America. Now he can add messaging a fanfiction writer on Tumblr about something he should have just asked in the comments. 

If you told Victor he had no idea what he was doing then he would tell you he wasn’t surprised. 

He had just woken up to get ready for a photoshoot when he saw it. The Notification. 

_**Replied.** _

Victor couldn’t remember a time he opened something so quickly in his life.

_no i dont thik taht victor nikifovor is perfcet i think he is more than perfect and how i write him to be i think hes passionate and broken down adn beautiufl and has been an inspriation to my writing for i dont know how long and i can tell its all an act and every not rael smlie he gives the tv hurts my heart bc i think he would hve ben happy skting instead of whath\ he doing know and i can sseeee how tired he is and it makes me want to khow whos the lucky person he will openupto or make babies with or i dont know maybe doesnt want tomke babies with somenoge but i tried dmaking the pronungds genderflud but ppple didnt like that and then theydidnt liek me so icoudldnt write that and hav infg tried dat sinc and maybe ji just try to hope sometiems taht hes a little more deep and himaan tahn he is on da tv bc thats how he was wen he was skating and oh gosh he was my first crush when i was a bby or tweleve idk and ive liked loved him eversince i try to get over himb ut i cant and nobody esle wants t orerad the realdj victor nikiforv so icnt write aboutthe vicchan ive fallen inl ove iwht haha did u know inamed mydog vicchan fter him because im that kinda vicctoror trashand he died aout a year ago and i kinda had ap nnci attack when if oufdn out and i feel like im a disappointment to alkdjl bu t vakc to victo r i have no idea why i wrete tsi stings beicaus they are usuesoos and meannigkss just ilesk my life and v8ct9r wil never no ho i am or read thsi i know bec i dindt translate to russaina but he mvod to da usa and had non egoish for aile so i have noi diae wahhy i wont put russina yet imagin e if victor nikkkkulf saw this horrible crp i posted aou ghim adn men a ving da drty haha he owuld think i was a creep for dign taht and would be tottaall y diguested with meand I wish I can_

Victor, was once again, very surprised. 

 

 

~

>   
>  When Yuuri woke up, he remembered nothing.  
> 

Yuuri woke up with a pounding headache and zero will to get up and close the curtains Phichit opened. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't dead (even though his mouth probably was), and how he still had no idea why he was hungover.

“Rise and Shine Yuuri!” 

Yuuri could hear the tv faintly from the kitchen, but the sound was like a pounding drum against his head. There was without a doubt that Yuuri Katsuki was hungover. 

Phichit was making some kind of food in their small kitchen (which smelled delicious god bless Phichit Chulanont ) but when Phichit came into Yuuri’s room, he tried looking disappointed…. but burst in a fit of giggles. 

“Yuuri… Why did you try working when you were drunk?” Phichit sighed. Yuuri blinked. 

He was working.

He was working.

_He was working._

What did he do?

Yuuri found his computer placed to his right upside down and resting on his leg. He definitely did something last night. He just couldn’t remember why though, just like he couldn't remember why he was hungover. 

Yuuri searched his side table his glasses, before catching his reflection in the shine of his lamp. 

He grazed his hand over his forehead, feeling tiny small indentions in the skin. What was wrong with his forehead?

“Don’t stress yourself out too much.. But it looks like you fell asleep on your keyboard and now your forehead looks like an icebox, “ Phichit tried saying seriously, but failed miserably. Yuuri was still very much stressed though because he had no clue what kind of shit he did last night and he was almost too scared to ask. Should he deal with the online damage first, or should he ask Phichit why the heck did he have to be so cheerful this morning-

“W-what, what happened last night?” Yuuri grumbled, flinching at getting a tiny whiff of his breath. His whole existence felt like it needed to be scrubbed thoroughly and dipped in mouthwash.  
‘  
“Well, since it was Friday night, I managed to convince you to go out for your birthday, so we went to this karaoke bar. You told me not to let you drink, which I would’ve done if you hadn’t downed eight shots behind my back. Then you signed yourself up for karaoke- and did a super great job at performing might I add. I have it all on video-”

Yuuri let out a squeak. 

“-and then you drank another ten shots and some kind of fruity cocktail, I convinced you that it was time to go home before things got too out of hand. I called an uber, you went to your room, and here we are today!” Phichit explained. “Now come on, I made breakfast!”

“Phichit I think I really did something bad last night. Online. I don’t know what I said or did but-” Yuuri felt like he was going to vomit. He didn’t know if it was from the situation or the hangover. 

“I already checked, Yuuri. I’m your editor remember? You just replied to an a reader on Tumblr. Everything is fine!” Phichit assured. Yuuri sighed in relief. 

“Except.. Except you wrote about how you think you’re a disappointment to your friends and family, which you aren’t, most certainly aren’t Yuuri!-”

Yuuri felt light headed. 

“-and besides that.. It was mostly about how you don’t think that Victor is all he’s let up to be and how you missed when he skated..” 

Yuuri no longer felt like he was going to throw up. 

“... You also said some stuff about how you want to change your content and don’t really like what you’re writing right now.”

He **was** going to throw up. 

Yuuri darted to the bathroom off of his bedroom, thankfully reaching the toilet in time to spew whatever was left in his stomach into the toilet. Yuuri could feel Phichit patting his back. 

Five minutes later his sweaty forehead was pressed against the cool, tile floor. Yuuri felt like he never wanted to get up. Maybe he could stay on this tile floor for the rest of his life. Then he wouldn’t have to go back to his laptop and face the consequences of his actions. For all Yuuri knew, the account could have screen shoted the reply and posted it anywhere and everywhere, so everyone would know exactly what Yuuri thought about Victor and his life and what he thought about his writing. Yuuri couldn’t remember a time where he felt so vulnerable in his life, so exposed to the world. 

“I.. I actually think this might be good for you Yuuri.. Speaking as both your editor and best friend. You’ve been so unhappy lately with the content you produce, and maybe this is your chance to do what you really want!” Phichit said carefully. “You should be able to write what makes you happy, and if people don’t like it, then that’s fine. Because it’s your work, and it makes you happy.”

Yuuri wanted to slam his head into the floor. Phichit had a point. He always had a point. But that didn’t mean Yuuri was happy about what he did. Far from it. Who knew what damage he had caused to his account and what people thought of him. 

“W-what.. What was the damage?” Yuuri managed to say without barfing again. Phichit closed his eyes and took a short breath. 

“Okay, so it’s a little weird how it looks. I’ve checked every social media outlet I have and nothing showed up. _Nothing_. Everything is how it was when we left yesterday. So either the account you replied to hasn’t seen it yet, or maybe they just don’t want the attention or you to have that attention. I checked the account too and it’s mostly barren, “ Phichit told him. That only fed Yuuri’s fears. 

“Or maybe he screenshotted it and hasn’t decided when he would post it, thinking to get something out of me, “ Yuuri mumbled, pressing his face deeper into the white tile. Phichit shook his head. 

“Which won’t happen, alright? Now come on, you need to eat something. The food’s probably getting pretty cold,” Phichit reassured, helping Yuuri up off the bathroom floor. Yuuri blinked, feeling light headed from getting up so fast. 

Phichit pulled him into the kitchen, and Yuuri sat down, glancing at probably the largest hamster cage in the world on the shelf in their living room space. Once again, Yuuri wished he could be as optimistic as his best friend, but couldn’t help but feel like he fucked everything he ever did up in a matter of hours. 

Phichit was right though. Yuuri did need to eat something. Besides, when he read what he wrote, he needed something in his stomach to upchuck out of his digestive system as a reaction.

After he ate, Yuuri made his way to the bathroom again to shower and brush his teeth twice. He wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled a rodent out of his mouth it smelled so bad. After getting done and feeling a little better about his hangover, Yuuri approached his computer like he was Chris Pratt with a pterodactyl. He slowly opened his laptop, slightly wincing at the brightness of it. Yuuri was never going to drink alcohol again. If he had just stayed home for his birthday and did what he did any other friday night, he wouldn’t have to sort out this situation! 

His moused grazed the tumblr icon.

He clicked. 

A single _**1**_ hovered over the mail icon, and Yuuri closed his eyes and clicked once more. The account must have replied in the span of Phichit checking Tumblr and when Yuuri got out of the bathroom. 

He scrolled up to the top on where the conversation started, opened his eyes and read the message that had caused so much trouble. 

It was more of a comment than a request, but sometimes readers commented directly to him. It wasn’t completely unusual. It was also a really nice comment someone could give him. What caught his eye though was the question.

_I’m curious: Do you really think Victor Nikiforov is truly like this? Always charming, fun, and carefree? Or do you think that it’s just an act?_

It took less than a second to realize that this question was his downfall. That this question is what triggered the thoughts and emotions that were locked in Yuuri’s brain, fighting their way to get out. Nobody had ever asked anything like this. Nothing remotely similar to this question, so Yuuri must have thought in his drunken state that this was his time to speak, to say what he always wanted to say. 

Yuuri looked down at his response, face immediately heating up. He could barely read what the heck he said, but the parts he could read were absolutely mortifying. It was obvious now that Phichit extremely sugar coated the worst of it. Yuuri told this random account that he wanted to make babies with Victor Nikiforov, and that he wanted to marry him! It was like reading some poorly written school girl’s love confession (and later Yuuri would think that that analogy wasn’t very far from the truth). 

Yuuri was also embarrassed at his disclosing of personal problems that he was having in the past and present. He admitted he was a man (and Yuuri found out that that was frowned upon when he first started writing uploading) too, and how readers lashed out at him for trying to make reader inserts for everybody. The only thing left to make this worse was if Yuuri just started talking in another language entirely (knowing he probably would have if he was typing any longer than he had) Every sentence that Yuuri read made his face get warmer. 

Then Yuuri finished his response, cringing so hard that he felt his heart contort itself into a tiny ball. It was horrible and so humiliating to read that Yuuri wanted to delete his Tumblr account just so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge anything like this happening ever again. They must be mortified-

_Thank you for replying! ヾ(＾∇＾) Even though I am slightly confused by the response.. I agree with how you feel. Victor seems more than what meets the eye. I also think that since he hasn’t released a public statement about his sexuality, it would be wrong make assumptions._

_I give condolences to your dog. I know if anything happened to my dog I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know much about you, but I can tell that you aren’t a disappointment. You make wonderful content and are a very skilled writer! Anything you put your heart into isn’t meaningless, and it shouldn’t matter if Victor Nikiforov ever reads them! You have millions of readers who support your writing and are happy because of it, which is important and something to be proud of._

_I was wondering why there wasn’t Russian in the translations, but I feel special knowing the truth! （＾ω＾） English isn’t my first language so It was a habit to look for it. I also didn’t know that Victor Nikiforov use to ice skate. That’s interesting. Thank you for telling me your true opinions and for answering my questions!_

 

That was unexpected.


	4. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is a russian trainwreck tbh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. I decided now would be a good time to finally getting around to watching Attack on Titan, and season 2 has basically crushed my ability to live (also I don't drink coffee so don't judge to harshly about how bland the description is plz)

Victor had no idea what to type. There were so many emotions swirling through his heart (Victor was never the one who could actually describe their emotions with real words) that Victor didn’t know what to pay attention to. The first emotion he felt was the only one he could give a name to. Confusion. 

The answer was a complete contrast to the writer’s published works, with zero punctuation, spelling, or any use of grammar mechanics. It was a ramble of thoughts and opinions Katusdon_n_stuff had, and it seemed like it cut off abruptly at the end. Strange. Was this the format he usually replied with? Victor scrolled through both the comments on fan fiction websites and the asks on his blog. They were in the same, sleek format as his published work. So what made Victor’s comment any different?

But Victor wouldn’t trade that reply for anything though. It was personal and honest and gave Victor more than what he wanted. Victor was extremely flattered (and just the tab bit bewildered how someone could like him so much), but also saddened. Katsudon_n_stuff seemed like he had the world crushing down on him. Victor knew the feeling all too well. Did he have more fans like this? Fans who enjoyed him as something more than to oggle at? 

He was shaking when he read over the part about how Katsudon_n_stuff wished he would return to skating. Oh how Victor longed for his skates to touch the ice again…It was an urge that followed him throughout the day and all the way into the night at times. It was a dull ache that was always with him, caused the fake smiles that no one seemed to notice he had. Because no one cared. 

Except this writer. 

It made his chest feel tight and heavy but light at the same time. What was this feeling? Was there a name for it? 

He was ashamed at hearing what his fans thought about his sexuality. Sure, he was seen out with women sometimes (for publicity as always), costars of his and fellow models, but he had also been seen with a fair amount of men also. Giving hate to someone who was considering the possibilities (and those possibilities were very correct) that Victor wasn’t exclusively attracted to women was completely childish and wrong. 

That gave Victor an idea. A (probably) bad idea that would have Yakov glaring at him until he took his final breath, but something that needed to be done. Before now, Victor didn’t really care for disclosing his sexuality with the public, deciding to let the world think what they want to think. Now, Victor saw that maybe it would be for the best, so there wouldn’t be any harassment caused by it. It was the least he could do for Katsudon_n_stuff and the millions of people who were fans of his work. Of course, as always, there will be people who will judge him on his sexuality, but it could encourage fans of his who are struggling with their own. 

Besides, if things went well, he could fix at least one of Katsudon_n_stuff’s problems, who Victor was liking more by the millisecond. 

It was a step to showing the public he was _real._

Victor let out a shaky breath. How was he going to say all that he wanted to say to this writer without revealing his identity and not sounding like a madman? It was ironic, how the one time Victor had the chance to say what he felt, he couldn’t, because he didn’t know how. 

He didn’t have to lie now. Nobody knows who he is. Katsudon_n_stuff doesn’t know who he is. And the thought of giving his emotions a chance to be let out excited him. 

Victor pulled his laptop off of his desk and turned it on. He barely used his laptop anymore, preferring his phone. It was more portable, and he could always do what he needed to do without sitting down or being at home. But today Victor probably needed it more than ever. 

Once Victor started to get invested in what he wanted to say, he couldn’t stop. He let everything in his mind spill over the screen like wine, unedited and uncensored. He had so many questions and things he wanted to tell Katsudon_n_stuff and once he was content with actually producing something, he looked back over the letter and edited it. Then, he managed to get the sprawling letter reduced into just a few small paragraphs. 

The process took over 15 minutes, and as soon as he was done, he had no choice but to automatically send what he wrote, knowing if he waited any longer before arriving at his work place then he was sure to be scolded. Not only that, but the crew didn't seem to not notice that their comments were just loud enough for Victor to hear abuot. He's heard from them how _Nikiforov can never arrive on time_ or _Does he really deserve this role? I’m sure that there are plenty more qualified people who actually would arrive on time who want it_ and sometimes even a _he’s like a dream, when he’s here he so vague and and elegant that you can’t comprehend what just happened._

Victor didn’t want to be a dream. 

Victor _wasn’t_ a dream. 

Victor could be happy though. Becuase he knew now that there was at least one person on this earth who thought that that was okay. 

 

*

 

Victor’s lines were always easy to remember. It was obvious that the writers made it like that for a reason, and that reason was to keep him at arm's length. The character he played (Nichelle Montoya, a foreign “businessman”) was also very similar to him, like they didn’t even want him to try and play someone else besides Victor Nikiforov. 

(Victor wanted to chuckle. Even when he wasn’t being Victor Nikiforov, he was Victor Nikiforov.)

(The show he was working on presently was based off of a movie in the seventies about a woman who gained the ability to read minds after a fatal car accident that killed her child and almost her husband. After finding out the expenses of treating the severe injuries of her husband, the Federal Bureau of Investigation confronts her that they will cover the costs if she uses her ability for the advantage. New episodes appeared every Wednesday night, so if he wasn’t modeling for photoshoots, he was at the studio rehearsing his lines and blocking. 

It was fairly new, the pilot only airing less than a month ago and was a step up from the soap operas he was used to doing. The show had consuming hours though, which was why Victor was made to move to the United States in the first place instead of just buying a hotel room every week.)

When Victor arrived on set, he was immediately rushed to his fitting room where makeup was seemingly slapped onto his face and clothes shoved into his arms. Once he was dressed in a classic three piece black suit, a hairdresser came in and fixed his slowly growing bald spot (Victor didn’t want to talk about it). After that, he was rushed onto the main set they were filming on today, which was an interrogation room. Victor noticed that the female lead, Isabella Yang was sneaking peeks at her phone, probably texting her fiance. The phone was soon reluctantly set down somewhere off stage, and a director came on set and called out the scene cut. 

**“Interrogation Room- Scene One, Take One: ACTION”**

And so the scene began. 

_“What do you want from me? I have barely anything. There’s nothing to gain from me, “ Isabella Ava begged, conveying wonderfully how someone who’s life was a catastrophe would act._

_Nichelle smiled. “I know you that you aware that statement is false. We’ve been watching you for awhile, Ms.Parker. You can drop the act.”_

There, the awkward staring began between the two actors. It was a long pause before the scene started to really move again. It was to make space for the voice overs of both Isabella and Victor, which happened most frequently because of the twist of “reading people’s minds.” 

_Ava inserted a small gasp, and her eyes widened. “How can you do that? I thought I was the only one capable of.. Of this ability.”_

_Nichelle walked closer to her. “Never assume what someone is capable of. It’s a weakness that can turn even the strongest men into fools.”_

_Ava briefly nodded. “So… you want me to… Work for you?”_

_This was when Nichelle was suppose to laugh, like it was a clever joke. “Not for me, Ms.Parker. Never for me… I want you to work for the greater good of the world.”_

 

They ran a few more scenes, and soon enough the Director called for break. They had just three more scenes to run through clearly before they could be let home. Victor took this time to begin orchestrating a plan for announcing his sexuality to the world. Before he could even pull out his phone, he was smacked on the butt. 

Only one person had the mental capacity to smack anyone, even _Victor Nikiforov_ on the butt so casually like it was a regular greeting, and that person was his closest friend.

_Christophe Giacometti._

“Victor! How has your day been so far hm? I brought coffee instead of alcohol this time so I won’t be kicked out.”

Chris wasn’t an actor. Victor had no idea how he managed to be let on set in when it was time to shoot, but then again, he didn’t really care. 

“It's been well-

“And you’ll never guess what I saw, Victor... Our kitten was having the sweetest date with Otabek Atlin, you know, the DJ that’s been touring? And I was going to get closer but he saw me and gave me the meanest look-”

Victor laughed. He had made the mistake of asking about who was hogging the teen’s attention for the past few weeks, which caused Yura to yell at him for the next 8 minutes about how he should not invade his privacy about such questions.

Ah, young love. How beautiful it must be to experience it. 

“That sounds like our Yuri! You mentioned you had.. coffee?” Victor said, getting down to business. Victor turned to look at the two styrofoam cups that Chris was holding.

Chris rolled his eyes. “I see where your priorities lie with our friendship.” 

“Chris, you know that's not true! You know I'm friends with you because we would hate each other otherwise!” Victor whined, before grabbing a cup out of the cardboard drink holder and gulping half of the coffee down in one sip. It was warm, but not warm enough to burn Victor’s throat on the way down. 

Even though it was said purely as a joke, there was truth behind the statement. Chris and Victor were both rivaling models always competing with each other. Being enemies was too much work though. Besides, Chris was fun to be around. 

 

“Victor, that's mine.”

Victor didn't need Chris to tell him that to figure out that small piece of information. Victor didn't have time to get coffee this morning, (he barely had time to tie the laces in his shoes) because of the wonderful reply from Katsudon_n_stuff he received. He was basically running on determination to go home.

Chris’s coffee tastes were… different from Victor’s to say the least. Victor and Chris were very precise with how they wanted their coffee to taste, which was probably the only similarity. 

(To put it simply, Chris liked his coffee to be **bitter** , while Victor preferred the most sugar possible. It was the only guilty pleasure Victor could indulge in everyday.)

“Oh, sorry,” Victor apologized.

“You seem so fazed Victor! Oh.. I see. Did you finally get to have someone in your arms again?” Chris asked excitedly. “Oh how I’ve been telling you that you need to relieve some stress-”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Oh have you now, Christophe? But no, that’s not the case. I just didn’t have time for coffee this morning.” Victor also didn’t get much sleep last night. He had too much on his mind to sleep or make coffee this morning. 

Chris seemed unconvinced. “I see. Don’t kiss and tell eh? Well at least tell me if it was a good lay or not.” Chris gave the other cup of coffee to Victor. “Here. Drink the other one. You probably need it more than me.”

If anyone of Victor’s “inner circle” cared about Victor’s sex life, it would be Christophe Giacometti. What made Chris a successful model was how he was able to ooze sex appeal and make everything he did completely and utterly erotic. He had no filter on what topics he would casually discuss in public, and Victor had learned that from personal experience. 

And Chris was right. Victor did need that extra cup of coffee. He would probably be even better with a third cup. 

“Thank you. I didn’t-”

A bell was heard to signal all actors to return to dressing room, cutting off what Victor was about to say. 

“Bye Vitya. Have fun ravishing the wonderful person who managed to get you into bed,” Chris sighed out, turning and giving a small wave goodbye. 

And now Victor was alone again. 

 

~

 

Yuuri reread the note again and again, not having the ability to stop. Every time he read it, it became more complicated to infer, and even more complicated to think of a reply. Should he reply? Yurui wanted to die of shame from what he wrote to The_russian_trainwreck (the account in question), and couldn’t think of anyway to fix this. 

To say that this whole situation didn’t catch Yuuri off guard just a little bit would be a complete and utter lie. Yuuri didn’t know if he was more relieved or disappointed that this reply was the exact opposite of what he expected. Why were they being so genuinely polite when Yuuri was so unprofessional, unintelligent, and overbearing? 

There was a part of part of his conscious screaming at him that he _must_ reply because The_russian_trainwreck was something else entirely than what he was expecting. They were polite and seemed so honest even though Yuuri could never be sure online. Yuuri couldn’t be sure at what this person was playing at. What were they going to do? Try to lure him into a false sense of security and then when Yuuri decides to finally trust them-

What the heck was he talking about? Yuuri was thinking like their would be _more_ to this. Which there won’t be. There can’t be. Stories don’t start like this for people like him. 

Besides, even if he was right about his anxiety driven conclusions, he would never be able to find out because this embarrassing situation was ending, right here right now. Yuuri should just forget any of this ever happened. Whoever The_russian_trainwreck was, the didn’t seem to care that Yuuri replied in such a way. They couldn’t forget about this and Yuuri wouldn’t have to-

No. 

Yuuri had to reply. Apologize. Maybe he can say that there was some complications and he didn’t mean anything he said? It was completely unbelievable but it was one of his best options…. This was a mess. Whoever was on the other side of that screen seemed very kind and understanding and didn’t deserve this mess to be tossed on them like the shit it was

Apology it was.

Yuuri snorted to himself. It was like an ironic joke how Victor Nikiforov was seemingly the farthest thing from his mind, and the punchline was that his pointless fantasies about him was what caused this aggravating situation in the first place. If he hadn't fallen completely inlove with the man who he could never have, maybe Yuuri would have a life outside of fanfiction and writting apologizes to readers becuase he was a sad, drunken pining man. 

Yuuri Katsuki really was trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkard moment when Yuuri jokes about Victor Nikforov being the farthest thing from his mind while stressing about what he should say back to Victor Nikiforov. Also that awkward moment when author reference's story name. ヾ（＾ヮ＾)ﾉ


	5. The End... or is it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are ending just before they've even begun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I would make this chapter cute and funny but then everything went to hell I'm sorry-

“Um.. Excuse me? I’m looking for Stephen King’s _I.T._? Where do you think I can find it?”

This was the third goddamn time someone had asked him about that book in the past two hours. 

“Try the very back and to the left. I think there’s a copy that’s been hidden around there, but if not, then you should probably come back in a day or two. I hope you find it, “ Yuuri answered the girl, who looked like she was in middle school. He had never read the book himself (horror never really appealed to him that much) but was pretty sure that the book had very mature content and was made for older readers. 

Then again, Yuuri Katsuki had no right to judge on what someone should or shouldn’t read. 

The girl replied with a curt nod and a small, “thank you” before darting behind the shelves until she hit the back. There was a strict no running policy at the library he was currently working at, but Yuuri knew the feeling of being able to find that one book you’ve been looking for before it’s too late. It was a feeling that gave him sadness, because with his job and tight updating schedule, he hadn’t been able to start a book in months.. 

Speaking of the update schedule, Yuuri was completely bombing it. 

He had barely written anything in _three_ days. At this rate, Yuuri wouldn’t have anything posted in the next week. That would put him behind for not only the two fanfictions that were suppose to have chapters out days ago, but for the ones yet to come. He hadn’t checked on any comments or even _dared_ going on Tumblr again, so he had no idea how his readers were responding. Phichit was already gone when Yuuri woke up, and he took that as a sign the universe was sending him that whatever feedback that was, Yuuri did not want to know. 

He was good at rationalizing excuses. 

Last night, after hours of contemplating what his next action should be for fixing his..little problem Yuuri finally decided a solution. He should just apologize for the silly note he sent and say that it didn’t mean anything and he’s sorry that he caused any confusion. 

He hadn’t even started writing it though. 

Yuuri Katsuki was good at rationalizing excuses, he was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts about his celebrity crush Victor Nikiforov, and he was good at writing even when he didn’t really want to. 

Now he only knew how to do the first skill listed. 

Yuuri leaned over his desk, looking at the front door and over to the mother with her young children in the adolescents section, before pulling out his phone, unlocking it, and opening the new chapter for _Pancakes with Grape Jelly_ (fun fact, Phichit actually was the one to come up with names for his writings, considering that that was not one of Yuuri’s strong suits) ,the one that was suppose to updated _three freaking days ago._

He took a deep breath. He needed to calm down. 

That didn’t mean that Yuuri wasn’t stressed as hell. 

(When was he ever not?)

He almost screeched when someone started to talk to him. Yuuri quickly dropped his phone on the floor, feeling like a mother who just caused her son to scrape his knee, and greeted the person politely. 

“Good Morning! What can I assist you with?” Yuuri asked, using the rehearsed standard greeting that he used with anyone who entered the library. 

Yuuri saw that it was a man who looked to be in his late thirties. The man looked taken back when he saw Yuuri’s face, like he just saw Yuuri morph into a plant and then back into a human. A smirk then appeared over his features. 

“Man, I would have come here sooner if I knew the librarian was such a cutie,” the man purred.” The name’s Matt. Care to share yours?”

Yuuri was completely confused. Was this some kind of joke?

“....Mr.Katuski? If you’re looking for a particular book-”

Matt whistled. “The only thing I’m looking for is when I can take you’re gorgeous ass out, Mr. Katsuki.”

Yuuri didn’t have time for this man’s mockery. There was no way in hell that Yuuri even on a good day would look gorgeous, so what was this man getting out of messing with the awkward librarian?

Yuuri could feel his hands shake from underneath the table. He was terrified, for some reason, of some guy who was just probably joking around to make the overweight unattractive librarian feel better. 

“If.. If you just came here just to speak to me than I suggest you leave-”

“Now why would I want to do that, sweetheart? Let’s say this, I’ll leave, but only if it’s with you. Kay?” Matt said leaning across the desk, continuing to stare at Yuuri. 

Yuuri could feel his legs start to shake too, and wondered if Matt didn’t know that Yuuri was uncomfortable with his advances, or if he just didn’t care about what Yuuri wanted. This man was way too close for any comfort of Yuuri’s and he had no idea what to do. The extremely cold air of the library suddenly felt stiff and hot and suffocating and Yuuri was _paralyzed_ with fear because what could he do when he was just the sad librarian behind the desk? 

“I-I’m really… r-really not interested. C-could… could you please just leave i-if you aren’t planning on... C-checking out any books, “ Yuuri tried, making out sentences the best he could. It was pathetic how it only took one cruel joke for Yuuri to be on the breaking point. Yuuri tried to make eye contact, letting Matt know he was serious, but felt as though it was more impossible than trying to stare down a sun on a hot summer’s day. Yuuri’s gaze was went back down to his shivering limbs in less than a second. 

“Oh come on _Mr. Katsuki_ , you don’t know what you’re missing out on. I can treat you real nice if you only let me. “ Matt said, grabbing Yuuri’s chin. His hand was sweaty and course and all above extremely wrong. Why was he touching Yuuri? Why couldn’t he see that Yuuri wanted him to leave him alone? _Why was he here in the first place?_ This was all too much and Yuuri tried looking over to see if there was anybody who would be able to-

Suddenly the door to the library opened and in walked….. _Yuri Plisetsky?_

What was Yuuri’s life right now?

“I need-” Yuri looked between a panicking Yuuri and a shady guy clutching his face, and probably got the picture, considering the look of disgust that clouded his disgruntled face. 

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?! This is a library not a porno you _SICK FUCKS!_ ”

(On a list of ten things you should not yell in a library that would probably come in at number 4.)

There weren’t that many people in the library to begin with (something that was once relieving, now completely terrifying), but that comment sent the middle scholar, the mother, and another man that looked around Matt’s age to come closer and witness the scene. 

Yuuri wanted to be _dead._

“P-please let go of me, “ Yuuri pleaded, but was unheard once again. 

Matt’s attention was solely on Yuri now. “Hey Kid! We’re in a library, brat! You can’t just yell stuff like that in here!” 

Yuri looked extremely ticked off. Neither one of them seemed to remember they had an audience. 

Especially when Yuri ran up to Matt and roundhouse kick his ass into next Tuesday. The mother jumped and let out a squeak as Matt fell close to her with a thud and a groan. Yuri walked up to the squirming lump on the floor and stepped on his back with his red leopard print boot. 

Yuuri was still frozen. He needed to do something. It was his job to do something. He couldn’t move a single inch of his body though. 

“When people tell you not to fucking touch them, you _don’t. Fucking. Touch. Them._ Got it, douche?” Yuri growled, pushing his boot covered foot deeper into the man’s back, twisting it. Another sound of pain could be heard, and Yuuri still had no idea what _to do oh god._

The man gave a small nod and hurriedly and clumsily exited the library. The library was, ironically, silent.

In a quick hurry, everyone except Yuri got in line to check out their required books. Yuuri noted that the middle school girl had found the hidden copy of _I.T._ She seemed to be the only other person besides Yuuri who knew that they just watched rising figure skater/model _Yuri Plisetsky_ (and step cousin of _Victor Nikiforov_ )roundhouse kick a guy twice his age and size, in a library, in detroit of all the places. Why was Yuri Plisetsky in detroit again?! 

Everyone else was in a quick hurry to get out, but the middle school girl, who was pulling out her phone. “ _Ohmygod_ Oh my god! You’re Yuri Plisetsky! Can I get a selfie?” The girl begged, holding out her phone. Yuri gave a small grunt and nodded. The girl excitedly took the selfie, saying thank you a thousand different times before finally leaving the library a squealing mess. 

That reminded Yuuri that he needed to thank him more than anybody. 

“I-”

“I don’t want a thank you, moron. Just help me find a book I need…” Yuri grumbled. Yuuri felt his face get hot from embarrassment. 

“R-right! Of course!! What are you looking for?” Yuuri asked. Yuri started to scroll through his phone and mumble something that sounded like Russian under his breath. 

“.... It’s a Harry Potter book. Philosopher's Stone, Sorcerer's Stone? I don’t know, you Americans always have to fucking rename everything, “ He sighed, seemingly even more irritated than when he walked in. _“Глупый бека с его глупым лицом и глупой ставкой…”_

Yuuri knew a little bit of Russian (when he was fifteen he thought that maybe he should know it so one day if he met Victor Nikiforov he could at least have the ability to talk to him in a language he understood) but not so much that he he could go on and on for hours in the language. He was slightly worried at the mention of a bet (bets were never good things in Yuuri’s experience) though, and hoped that the teen wasn’t planning on trying anything mischievous. 

“I can understand. Uh. When I came to the United States I struggled with names… I think it’s something you just have to get used too, “ Yuuri said sheepishly , scratching his head. 

He had never been good at making conversation with anyone new and in the back of his head he knew that most of the reason was that he wrote about Yuri quite a few times (as a supporting character of course and nothing more), and if Yuri found out then it was likely Yuuri was going to receive more than just a kick. 

“Just help me find the book, “ Yuri ordered. Yuuri gulped. 

It wasn’t a hard book to find at all, the library having multiple copies of the Harry Potter books. Soon enough the two were back at the front desk. Yuri obviously didn’t have a library card, so Yuuri got the information he needed from him in case the book becomes overdue, and then the teen was on his way. 

Once the library was truly empty, Yuuri let out a loud sigh of relief. The last fifteen minutes had finally hit Yuuri full force. 

Yuuri picked up his phone from off the floor. The screen had faded to black, so he had to unlock it again and think of what he should work on next. He was still a little shaken up from what happened, but he didn’t have time to take a break. He needed to get these things done soon or else who knew what would happen. 

_“Stop! You know I’m ticklish!” You cried, trying to defend yourself from Victor’s quick fingers. Ironically, when Victor tried to tickle you he ended up laughing more than you. It was a treacherous and traumatizing experience._

_“But your cries are so beautiful-”_

Yuuri closed the document on his phone. It was hard to write things like this after what he just went through. He knew that it was just playful romantic fluff, and that Victor Nikiforov tickling someone was completely different than a guy who didn’t care if someone wanted to be touched or not, it just…. It still just made his head hurt comparing the two. It was embarrassing how weak Yuuri was. 

There was no way he could write anything leading to where this was going at the moment. That left him with one option if he wanted to at least get something done today.

The_russian_trainwreck.

 

Yuuri slowly opened his tumblr. It was like finally fulfilling the urge to push the destructive red button on an invention in a kid’s cartoon. HIs inbox was surprisingly empty, so either everyone had already abandoned him, or Phichit had already handled all the negative comments so he wouldn’t have to see them. Because he wasn’t strong enough to handle it. 

Then he started to write. 

_I’m sorry for any confusion that I may have caused. My comment to you was completely uncalled for and unprofessional. I wasn't in the write state of mind when I sent that. I’m happy that you have decided to continue reading my works in the future, and thank you for your support. Please keep this between us._

_**Sent.** _

 

~

 

Victor didn’t want to say he was disappointed.

But he was.

 

Victor didn’t want to say he was sad. 

But he was. 

The idea of maybe having something he wanted was beautiful while it lasted. Victor could only think that at least the world didn’t lead him on into thinking that he could actually have it. 

He knew he was selfish. He was Victor Nikiforov, the man who was admired, who was beautiful, who was successful, who was talented. People joked that he could have anything he wanted. 

Only Victor knew that was a lie. 

Sure, he could have anything he wanted, but he didn’t want what _they_ thought he wanted. Hell, he didn’t even know what he wanted half the time. Maybe that’s why he acted so impulsive and irrational when he would find it. 

And like other things he had lost, he had lost this too. 

Victor sighed. 

And he wrote, which would probably be the last time. 

 

 

~

 

Going home was hard for Yuuri. He was tired, and felt absolutely and utterly defeated. When he unlocked the door to his apartment, Phichit had bought both pizza and breadsticks. Buying the pizza and the breadsticks was a sign that they were going to need all the carbs they could stomach to get through tonight. Yuuri had made a subconscious decision that he wouldn’t even think about telling Phichit what happened at work. 

Even though there were only two of them, they finished the pizza and cheesy bread so swiftly like it was ameture hour. They didn’t talk, just ate, and when they got done, that’s when Phichit spoke first. 

“It’s not bad, Yuuri.” 

Phichit didn’t have to elaborate. 

Yuuri didn't want him to elaborate. 

“Can you look over the draft I did today? It’s a little small, but it’s better than anything.” 

“This isn’t healthy. You need to take a break. Talk to someone.” 

“Neither was that pizza but that didn’t stop you from buying it-” 

“Yuuri, please. I read the reply the account sent you. What did you say? What did they say? Did they give you their number?” Phichit pleaded. Yuuri gave silence as an answer. Sometimes things were better left unsaid. 

“Did you at least reply?!” Phichit demanded. 

“I told them that I wasn’t in the right mind when I said the things I said and I wanted to apologize for how uncalled for it was, “ Yuuri muttered. 

“ What. The. _Fuck_. Yuuri, “ Phichit said slowly. 

“They were just being nice Phichit even though I put them in an awkward situation-” 

“No! They literally told you that they wanted to talk to again Yuuri! Come on!” Phichit said. “Did you really say that? They must be heartbroken that you blew them off like that!”

“I.. I didn’t think-”

“You know what, we can fix this. How long has it been since you sent it?”

“I think.. Four or five hours. Phichit I don’t think it’s really a big deal.” 

Phichit let out a screech .”Yuuri.. Please. Don’t you want to talk to someone? They were sweet and genuine. You made it sound like you didn’t mean anything you said and that they were stupid for messaging you!”

“ ...I didn’t mean anything I said,” Yuuri stated. “And I did it’s just- I can’t do that. “

“ Yes you can, “ Phichit said. You didn’t mean to say it, not that you didn’t mean it. Two completely different things!” 

“Well it doesn't’ matter anymore. I’ve already messed up.” 

“No! You haven’t!” Phichit said confidently. He left the kitchen shouting, “If you leave that kitchen Yuuri _so help me god_ -” And returned with his computer.

Yuuri had no idea what Phichit was planning, as usual. 

“Okay Yuuri, first, you and me are going to write a letter back to that russian trainwreck. Then, we’re going to send the news to ever social media outlet you have that you want to take a break, and that you _will_ take a break. “ 

Yuuri had no idea what he did to deserve a friend like Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's angry Russian muttering rough translation- "Stupid Beka making me do this stupid bet"


	6. And Then Everything was Fine I guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oH FUCK WHAT DID I DO GUYS I NEED TO FIX THIS YUURI FIX THIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 MONTH LATER- I will get on my fat knees I am super sorry that this took such a long time for met get out. And the word count is disappointing I know but I wanted to end this chapter right were it was because I wanted to make it short sweet and too the point because I am so ready for next chapter guys we gonna have so blooming romance its gonna be great (also I was tired of these two pussy footing it so we're gonna get on with the show)

“Add a little more to the bottom paragraph and I think that we’re done!” 

“A little more what Phichit? I don’t know, do you think I can-”

“You know what I mean Yuuri! Now don’t talk only write!”

“Do you think this was a bad idea? Maybe I’m looking too into this…”

“ Yuuri. _No_. You’re not looking too into this. You’ve come to far into this to back out now. I think it looks really good and we should send it.” 

“Okay okay.. I’m still a little nervous… “ 

“I am too, Yuuri, I am too. “ 

_**Sent.** _

 

~

 

“Vitya! Pay attention! I you can’t take even this seriously-”

“Yakov, I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Stall for me. “

“10 MINUTES? YOU NEED TO BE HERE _NOW!!!!”_

Victor hung up. He wiped his face and went to the bathroom to bathe and figure out how much of a wreck he looked like. He had to figure out some way for him not to look like he drank himself to sleep.

Which he did. 

Victor laughed, almost choking on his toothbrush. 

It was a 5 minute drive down to the studio he was supposed to be at a half an hour ago, so whatever he came up with needed to be done now. He ran a finger through his silver hair, and decided that it wasn’t greasy enough for hair and makeup to scold him. His main priorities could be washing his face and getting dressed. 

The pain was numbing. It was a pathetic pain, that made Victor feel dumb every minute of the day. Dumb enough to drink all the vodka in his fridge in one night. 

Victor _should_ have expected that he wouldn’t have met someone new out of this and Victor _should_ have been more mature and not drank himself to sleep before a shoot. But hey, why should it even matter anymore? Victor couldn’t get what he wanted and nobody should be shocked that Victor would arrive to a shoot… How do you do math again? Oh. Yes. 40 minutes late looking like the walking dead. 

He thanked whatever cruel god existed in this universe that he didn’t look as bad as he felt. Victor didn’t have much of a hangover (he never did), but he felt like his heart got ripped out of his body and shoved back in. All he could think about was this dull pain that lingered in his heart and mind. 

Victor Nikiforov was known for loving surprises. Too bad that he was crushed by the biggest one yet. 

 

The photoshoot was a blur. Victor had no idea what company it was for or what exactly he was modeling, and frankly, he didn’t care. He wasn’t expected to care. 

(Yakov would disagree with that.)

When they told him to move, he moved, when they told him to sit, he sat. He did what he was told like the puppet he was. Gave a smile, made small jokes to other models, and pretended not to notice the ogling on him. The numbing pain became more ignorable when time when on.Victor thought that maybe he was getting over this little mishap.

But then he got another one. 

And done the rabbit hole he went. 

 

_Dear The-russian-trainwreck,_

_I didn’t mean what I said in my previous message, and please don’t take any of it to heart._

_Victor let out a choke of a laugh._

_I really appreciated what you told me and how it was your honest opinion. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t produce a proper response and I thought I made you uncomfortable. I see that now that even if I did make you confused or awkward, you didn’t care and I appreciate that. It was wrong of me for using my insecurities as an excuse not to talk to someone who has been extremely understanding and an amazing person._

_(I’m still embarrassed that I told you all that personal stuff. My life is a joke with no punchline.)_

_When I first started out in the fanfiction community, it was just fun little stories to nurse my really bad crush on Victor. And then it morphed into wanting to write about him in general. I know it sounds creepy, but I enjoyed doing that. Imaging that hopefully this beautiful man had something more underneath. That he felt what I was feeling. Lost, unwanted, unhappy. Crazy, right?_

_Far from it._

_That’s what my readers thought. They also thought it was disgusting for a man to be sexualizing another man with fiction. Which I didn’t want to exactly at first. But after changing core things that made me enjoy my writing, I started to hate it. I hate what I’m writing now. And I hope that I don’t offend you by saying that._

_(Being offended would be hypocritical, considering Victor felt the same way about his work. People loved it, but the feeling wasn’t mutual.)_

_His heart was going to beat out of his chest soon enough._

_You’re the first reader who ever respected me like that and I really want to show the same respect back.. I would really like to talk some more with you if you would be okay with that. I know it’s weird for me to want to do this and I would be extremely fine if you wouldn’t want to do that. I know this message is crazy, but hey, after what you’ve seen from me it can’t get any worse right?_

_Yuuri._

Yuuri. 

His name was Yuuri. 

And then suddenly everything made sense. 

Victor smiled for the first time in a while. It was a real smile. It was a smile made for someone who couldn’t see it. 

A smile that marked the time for when everything began again.


	7. Woah Things Got Better Quick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days later and everybody is confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short update again. I was originally going to post this yesterday, but one of my friends are moving out of the state so we went to the roller skating rink (I made way to many Yuri on ice jokes and my friends yelled at me lol) but now I'm back and next chapter should be out soon. Thank you for sticking aruond after my one month break, and chapters will resume just a tad later than I usualy did. Thanks again and don't forget to comment! 
> 
> (Also for Yuri's point of view I basically modified most of the things I'm angry with and just ranted)
> 
> (Also I'm sorry to anybody who lives in Michigan)

Beka was suppose to pick him up from the airport. 

What Yuri got was Victor the fucking middle aged crisis. 

(But apparently not.)

His trip to Detroit was short sweet and to the point. And Yuri liked that. He was annoyed when he found out that a shoot was happening on the whole other side of this god forsaken country and that he would be required to stay there till Tuesday (they had already moved to the U S of fucking A so why couldn’t they just do shoots in their area? Okay, so it wasn’t entirely on the other side of the country, but you get the picture. And in Michigan? _Michigan?!_ It was probably the lamest of all states! What kind of fashion magazine would be headquartered there??) Yuri didn’t want to be on some plane for four hours were babies are puking and crying and people try to talk to him when _he has his earbuds in you don’t do that people unless you wanna have a pissed Yuri Plisetsky._

Yuri had found a sort of comfort in the city though. It was cold, and snowing, and reminded him of Russia. It reminded him of his homeland. 

(Otherwise Michigan was a shit state.)

The only thing that was particularly irritating about that city was that he had to save a fucking librarian (who looked as boring and sad as the state of Michigan himself) from molestation.The one time he looses a bet this shit happenes. He had to return the book two days later, so what even was the point for checking out a book if he had to go through that shit?

Otabek goddamn Atlin was the point. 

But now he was back and tired and hungry and was about to murder the next worried old lady who came up to him to ask where his parents were. One bitch even had the audacity to assume that he was homeless! He was wearing $200 leather and cheetah print _jacket fuck no he wasn’t homeless._

And he searched and searched for Beka to take him away from this the security checking waste land but instead he found Victor fucking Nikiforov… _Who was looking genuinely happy??? What the fuck????_

Yuri checked his phone, very much pissed that Otabek decided not to pick him up for some unknown reason, leaving him with this new and improved happy Victor. He growled when he saw several texts saying that Victor _called him last night at fucking three am that he insisted he would pick Yuri up and wouldn’t hang up until Otabek agreed._

“VICTOR!!! WHY THE HELL DID YOU WANT TO PICK ME UP?” Yuri screeched, stomping towards him with tiger print luggage in tow. A few people looked at him, but quickly looked away. 

A dreamy sigh escaped the that silver haired disaster. “ I missed you Yuri! Now come on! Let’s go home! I bet you’re tired, yeah?” 

Yuri glared at him. He was tired, but he was also annoyed. And hungry. The least Victor could have done was come with food. No way he was going to eat that airplane shit.

“Let’s get food. I could eat a small child I’m so hungry. Also why the fuck are you so happy all of a sudden?” Yuri asked. This received another smile and.. _A blush? Is he high?_

“Is it really that noticeable?” Victor giggled. _Giggled,/em >. OHmy _god._ _

“A-are you on drugs?” Yuri demanded.. It made more sense than Yuri wanted it to...Victor called Otabek at three am and it would take an idiot (which unfortunately, and apparently, most people are) not to see how fucking depressed Victor is. He always looks tired, sad, and ready to collapse at any moment. Everybody talked so much shit about him, and right in front of his face to make it even worse.Yakov puts more pressure than all of his models combined on Victor- and... _And since he quit skating_..Oh _christ Victor-_

_“Yuri! I would never do drugs! _You_ should never do drugs-”_

__“Get to the fucking point Victor-”

“I met someone.”

Well fuck. 

“ _You_ met someone?” Yuri said, unconvinced. 

“Oh yes..And he’s the most stunning person in the world..” Victor breathed, practically twirling out the doors of the airport.

_“He?”_

“Yes. He, Yuri. He. And he’s so understanding and honest and kind and-”

“Does Yakov know?”

“Well.. Nobody knows. Except you of course, “Victor explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world .

This Victor reminded Yuri of the old Victor. The Victor who would skate. The Victor who would laugh. Who promised Yuri he could accomplish greater things when you were following your passion. 

But even Yuri knew from experience what kind of world they lived in. It was a world that didn’t care whether you loved something or not. 

Or in this case, someone. 

 

 

 

Phichit was feeling proud. He was feeling proud of a lot of things. He was feeling proud of Yuuri (Phichit had probably never seen Yuuri so motivated and happy), he was feeling proud of himself of course, but he was also feeling really proud of whoever was on the other side of Yuuri’s screen. Phichit pushed Yuuri forward some, and whoever they are, they managed to make Yuuri hold on.

He was also feeling tired. It was twelve am on a work night and Phichit could still hear the fingers hitting the keys in Yuuri’s room. 

“Yuuri, tell him that it’s past midnight here and that you go to bed.” 

“He doesn't know about the time change! It's not his fault!”

“ _Yuuri your online romance can wait till the morning_. It's literally been 3 days-” 

“It's not like that Phichit- wait, 3 days? Already?” Yuuri asked surprised. Even in the dark and the drowsiness of Phichit eyes he could still see the redness on Yuuri’s cheeks. Phichit groaned. From exhaustion or frustration he didn’t know. 

“Oh my god just go to bed please.”

“O-okay!” 

Yuuri entered something into his computer. And then something else. And then something else. _And then something else-_

_“Y u u r i g o d d a m n K a t s u-”_

Yuuri quickly shut the lid and let out sheepish laugh and smile.”Okay.I’m going to sleep now.”

Did Phichit know if Yuuri was lying? Maybe. Was he too exhausted to convince his friend that they both had work in the morning and that they needed sleep to function? Definitely. 

It had been three days since Phichit and Yuuri both fixed the mess. This week had been one of the strangest and stress filled weeks of Phichit life, almost topping the week after he moved here from Thailand. When Phichit had confronted Yuuri after reading all of the letters, he was more than frustrated. At first even Phichit was wondering if he was making a big deal out of this. It was only one reader, one person right?

It was more than that though. Even if Yuuri and Phichit couldn’t have seen it all the way at the time, it was more than anything they could have imagined. 

It was almost like a dream for Phichit. How it seemed like everything was going wrong until Phichit forcefully pulled it into the right. Things went quickly and almost too good to be true. Yuuri had become happier and it was almost how scary it took just talking to a single person can change that. 

His writing became quicker. He had all chapters that needed to be done ready to be edited at the end of the week. He had written a total of 68,982 words this week. And that’s not counting the words he was typing to his new friend. 

Three days was all it took to change Yuuri’s world. 

(And a little bit of Phichit’s too.)

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri Katsuki just became one thousand percent more relatable


End file.
